Page 32 of Tempting Fate
Suddenly, Felicity wanted to cry.
“Good afternoon.” She turned around and swept back through the park, keeping a firm tamp on her emotion until she was certain no one was watching.
“I’m not going to marry him,” she stated rigidly to her giant, silent shadow.
“Good,” came the clipped reply.
“I cannot be the only one of my sisters without fidelity. I am not built for that. I’d be miserable.”
“Bainbridge surprised me,” he remarked, surprising her in turn. “Not many men are so frank. Which makes me think he is either a good man, or he has a secret deeper than his apparent wickedness to hide. Something ruinous. Something lethal even.”
“Do you think so?”
“I’d bet my fortune on it.”
That gave her something to wonder over until the dreaded ball. “Well… Let’s do go home, Gareth, I need to bathe and—”
The man beside her tripped on absolutely nothing. With impressive reflexes and an extra step, he was able to prevent a fall or even much of a spectacle.
“Bloody rocks,” he muttered.
She said nothing, not wishing to embarrass him. Though her conversation with Bainbridge was troubling, she felt a bit lighter than before. How fortunate she was that Gareth had been here today, prompting her to ask the correct questions.
What a boon to have a forthright and honest man at her side. Looking out for her. Listening to her troubles. Offering support and wisdom. Giving her the confidence to act on her own.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have that always?
Chapter 6
Gabriel had assumed that once he was rid of his mask, he’d never wish to lay eyes upon it again.
It troubled him how much he wanted it now.
Even dressed in an impeccable evening suit, he could never hope to blend in.
Which meant he stood out, especially amongst theton.
It was known he was a servant, of a sort, but not one that could be kept busy and invisible, such as a footman or a maid. His job was to watch, and his gaze made people mindful of their behavior.
Exactly no one appreciated that feeling.
While some regarded him with caution, hostility, disgust, or outright fear, he found that easy to ignore. What puzzled him the most was the reactions of several women to his presence.
Curiosity.
He leaned against a wall adjacent to a sideboard laden with largely untouched canapés, doing his best to disappear into the wallpaper. He’d noted that many of the women in the grand ballroom seemed to fabricate reasons other than food to gracefully flit by him like a cadre of vibrant butterflies.
In fact, he’d retrieved more than a half dozen accidentally discarded handkerchiefs from the floor in front of him. Had held multiple drinks as one lady or other fixed a bunched hem or broken lace behind the fern to his left, exposing varying lengths of their ankles and calves. A matronly marchioness had quite lost her balance and fell into his arms in an apparent swoon. She’d somehow made it impossible to avoid the press of her abundant bosoms as he righted her, and had promised him her generous gratitude if he called upon her tomorrow after her husband had gone to the House of Lords.
Indeed, more than a handful of married ladies did their utmost to convince their husbands that they were in need of hisparticularpersonal protection just as much as any orphaned, bookish baron’s daughter. One of them had overtly gestured to his features and proportions as a deterrent from a husband’s jealousy. What would he have to worry about around such an ungainly brute?
Unsurprisingly, he received no offers of employment from any man in the room.
Not only did the attention make him feel freakish and uncomfortable, but it also made his job more difficult than it ought to be.
Felicity was the only woman who deserved his attention tonight. All others were nothing more than an irritation.
An irritation that was swiftly compounding by the stifling heat and closeness of the ballroom, the fiendishly relentless music, and the sheer number of men who’d held Felicity Goode in their arms that evening.
